Monday 9 March 2009

This takes the biscuit

The time has almost come. I'm thinking of potty training Edie. Although if the little 'accident' on the stairs yesterday is an example of what's to come, then I may delay it even further (despite scrubbing for a good half hour, the stains are still pretty evident). Hmmm. Funnily enough it brings to mind an incident which happened a couple of years ago during Renée's 'potty training period'. A friend had come round for a coffee with her two children. Both our youngest were babies so they slept whilst the two eldest played in Renée's bedroom. I was breast feeding at the time (and possibly on a diet too if my memory serves me well)...so let's just say I was pretty hungry and the chocolate biscuits my friend brought round were slightly too tempting to refuse. So that's the scene. Two Mummies chit-chatting on the sofa...two babies asleep...two toddlers playing happily in another room. What could possibly go wrong? Well, as it happens, quite a lot.

No sooner had the two toddlers spied the packet of chocolate biscuits, they were upon us, demanding that they too be given a share of the goodies. Keen to carry on chatting with my friend, I dismissed the two girls with a hastily given supply of biscuits and the promise of more if they played quietly together for at least ten minutes. Chit chat chit chat chit chat. All was going according to plan until Renée walked into the sitting room clutching the potty...'Mummy, Roxy done caca' (that's French for poo poo just in case you were wondering). 'Right - thanks darling. Lovely.' I took the potty and handed it to the other Mother (it was her child's poo after all). I like to think I'm a great hostess but I only deal with other children's poo if it's a dire emergency. This, as it happens, was not.

So that was that. Potty emptied. Babies still sleeping. Toddlers demanding more biscuits (and getting them). Mummies still chatting. It was a great morning. Great, that was, until the moment of departure came. Now for two toddlers to play happily together, a certain amount of mess has to be made. That's inevitable. But that doesn't send shockwaves through me in any way. A ten-minute tidy-up and no one need ever know that the bedroom was a disaster zone. But this time it was, how shall I put it, different. It wasn't the scale of the mess which surprised me, or the extent to which two little children had been able to run riot. No, it was this simple fact. Chocolate biscuits do not mix well with toys or bedding or carpets, or rugs, or white walls. Somehow, whilst I was happily chit-chatting away in the other room, I had managed to completely ignore the fact that almost a whole packet of crumbly biscuits with melting potential had been taken away by two two-year-olds. I mean what was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking. I was thinking that just a little bit of peace and quiet is worth a ten-minute tidy up at the end of the day. But on this occasion I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

After ten minutes of crawling around on my hands and knees trying to tidy up the toys which hadn't been smeared in chocolate or crumbs, I made it to the potty corner. I don't know what had happened, but it looked as though either one or both of the children had been eating whilst sitting on the potty - like a man reading the Sunday papers on his 'throne' - and the whole surrounding area was covered with chocolate biscuit crumbs...or so I thought. And before you pass judgement - please remember - I was on a diet (and I just hate wasting food). So what did I do? I started eating the chocolate biscuits crumbs of course. Aside from the covering of tiny particles which I later had to vacuum up, there were a few big pieces of biscuit lying around. So piece by piece I put them in my mouth, pleased with myself for not only tidying up quickly, but doing it in a very efficient manner. But hold on, that doesn't taste like chocolate. Does it? No, it can't be. Can it? Just one more chew to make sure. Oh no. It really is what I think it is. It's POO. Aaaaaarrrrrggghhhh. And I'm eating it. Of course, I rushed straight to the bathroom where I spat my mouthful of biscuit and poo into the sink and quickly filled my mouth with mouthwash and water and mouthwash and water. Over and over again. But I'm telling you this - however many times I washed my mouth out and scrubbed and brushed my teeth, I still couldn't rid myself of the taste of poo. I could smell it. I could feel it. I knew it was there invading my every sense.

When I went to bed that evening, a good ten hours after the 'incident' I could still taste it somewhere deep in the back of my throat. And as I lay there thinking about it (how could I even try to think about anything else) it dawned on me why it was so horrific. It wasn't that I had eaten poo, as much as that in itself was hideous. But it was that it wasn't even my own child's poo. It was Roxy's poo. And she wasn't my own. Poo is bad enough when it comes from the ones you adore, but when it's someone else's child's poo, then that really does take the biscuit. And as for potty training Edie, well maybe I can leave it just a little bit longer...

14 comments:

  1. 'Caca' is also English for poo poo - or, at least used to be.
    When I was a five year-old, growing up in Devon, there was a kid who lived down our lane known to all as 'Caca Finniemore.' (I've no idea what the spelling was - in fact it was probably never written down.)
    He was so called because, many years (maybe two) earlier he had 'cacked' his pants in the classroom. I'm sure he'd hoped that by then, people might have forgotten about it, but alas, by the time we were ready to revert to his real name, we'd forgotten what it was.

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  2. As a five year-old philologist, I assumed that the derivation was from the English word, 'to cake.'

    But why should the French be the same?

    I understand that the gallic equivalent is to: 'gateau vos pantalons.' (Je gateau mes pantalons, tu gateau vos pantalons etc etc.)

    You can, of course, be more specific. For example, to: 'Gateau de la foret-noire les pantalons.' Although this is something that even seasoned health professionals are likely to come across no more than once or twice in their entire lives.

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  3. Thank you Freddo. I love learning something new every day!

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  4. Great a blog about someone who doesn't like spending time with children but eats their poo.

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  5. That was my comeuppance you see...

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  6. That's what we call "manger de la merde" in French, but proper sense not figurative and that's what is YUCK YUCK YUCK! Now that has definitely put me off potty training Elliott... he can wait that's ok...

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  7. Hilarious! I think yours may actually be even WORSE because you kept on chewing it! I am oddly comforted by the fact that I am not alone in never ever being able to completely rid myself of the experience, and the taste, as well! :)

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  8. Peggy - yeah leave it until you're both ready! Not a pleasant time if my memory serves me correctly!

    Matt - yeah I will never forget the taste. And am so glad I found someone who's had the same experience as me. A little bit of empathy always cheers me up!

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  9. OMG! wow that does take the biscuit (pun intended)! I thought i had problems, the poo poo incident i was refering to was on my daughters first birthday party. I was busy playing the good hostess and getting the food, decorations and all the last minute preparations in order for the impending guests arrival and had made a slight oversight in the nappy department! I found said birthday girl chomping on a massive turd and i had a total melt down, screaming hysterically to my husband " She's eating her own shit! Help!" All this pales into insignificance now i have read about you eating another childs poo - i tell you whenever i have a bad day i will always think of you and remember it could be a whole lot worse! Thanks for making me smile, although i feel slightly violated at just the thought of eating anybodys poo :) x

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  10. wob - Yep - it really was truly hideous and I do feel more than slightly sick whenever I recall it...I'd like to say I'd never make the same mistakae again, but I do like a chocolate biscuit!!! Your story is great - your poor daughter - at least she'll never remember it (although I'm sure it's you who's far more scarred)!!

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  11. Nope...nothing...I am speechless.

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  12. I'm really really sorry for laughing at your expense but this is hilarious... but just be glad that your warning all of us....

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  13. it is remarkable blog and has wast information regarding babies.

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